A Deal With The Devil
by RedRocker13
Summary: During the final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Harry is transported to the Graveyard, where a cowardly servant makes a mistake in resurrecting his master, but not the one that you might think. Female Voldemort.
1. A Grave Situation

A Deal With The Devil CH1 - Chapter One - The Graveyard

Spinning. Disorientated. It was a feeling he'd only ever felt once before, but it was one he remembered swirling colour of scenery as he passed by, the flashing lights as he passed cities and towns. The lights, noise and smells that emanated from them, swarmed his senses and overwhelmed him. Suddenly, pain. He hit the ground with a soft thud and groaned. He knew what had happened. He'd been portkeyed. Maybe the Triwizard cup was taking him to a final challenge? Or perhaps, a winners tent? He sat up. A sharp burst of pain shot down his left side, and he hissed. "What's a Triwizard Tournament without a few busted ribs?" he thought to himself, letting out a chuckle. He reached out and grabbed onto the nearest object he could, to help pull himself to his feet. He winced as another burst of pain shot forth. "Bloody hell." he muttered to himself, taking a few deep breaths. He glanced around his surroundings. One thing he knew for certain, it was no winners tent. It appeared to be a graveyard, though where he was, he could not say. He staggered forward a few steps. Maybe it was a final task. Maybe another dragon? Or Dementors. This place looked to be just creepy enough to be a Dementor task. Either way, he figured, it never hurt to be cautious, and slowly drew his wand. He began wishing that one of the other champions had grabbed the cup, instead of him. Fleur had most likely been rescued by now. Krum too, he imagined. The mediwitches would be with Cedric by now as well. He shook his head to clear his mind. The graveyard was empty, and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. This theory was confirmed when a weak blasting hex hit him in the back, sending him flying forward, landing on a grave in front of him. His head connected with the granite tombstone with a loud crack, and he let out a cry of pain. Rolling over, he looked up to see a short, rotund man with thinning hair, and wearing an ill fitting suit. "Pettigrew." he snarled. Pettigrew merely sneered at him, and with a quick flick of his wand, bound him in tight ropes. Satisfied that he was sufficiently bound, Pettigrew turned his back and retreated to where he had come from. A few moments later, he returned with a bundle, wrapped in a white blanket. "Don't tell me someone had a kid with a coward like you, Pettigrew?". Still Pettigrew said nothing. Reaching into his pockets, he fished out a small black cauldron, and threw it to the ground. With another flick of his wand, the cauldron gre to its full size. Pettigrew then dropped the bundle into the cauldron and turned to the grave next to his bound prisoner.

"Bone of the Father" he muttered, pointing the wand at the grave. "Unknowingly given, you shall renew your child." A bone raised from the grave and made its way to the cauldron. Canceling the levitation spell, it fell into the cauldron, rather undramatically. Pettigrew sheathed his wand and withdrew a large knife from his pocket. His hands were shaking as he raised them above the cauldron.

"F-flesh of the servant, w-w-willingly sacrificed, you will revive your m-master." he stammered, and then in one deft sweep, he pulled the blade down, severing his hand. He screamed as the hand fell from his arm into the cauldron. The effect was instantaneous. There was a loud bang, and red smoke rose from the cauldron. Pettigrew turned to him, and advanced on him, growing paler by the second.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you shall resurrect your foe." he all but whispered, as he plunged the knife, through the bindings of the rope, and deep into his prisoners gut. Suddenly, he withdrew the blade, and staggered back to the cauldron. He tapped the knife, causing a few drops of blood to fall into the cauldron. There was a sizzling sound, like oil in a hot pan. Then, the red mist grew thicker, until it completely obscured his vision, and choked him. It hurt to breathe in, between the ropes binding him, the fractured ribs, and now, the burning red smoke. However, just as quickly as it came, it passed, and in place of the cauldron, now stood a figure. A figure, with pale skin, and long black hair. Silently, the held out their hand. Pettigrew knelt and raised the wand he had been using in his one remaining hand. The figure flicked it once, and black robs began to cover their body. Pettigrew raised his stump arm, wincing as he did so.

"Master… Please" he whimpered. They ignored him, and turned to face their prisoner, rested on the grave. They stepped closer, and knelt before him, looking him over. Suddenly, they smiled.

"Hello Harry."

Harry Potter was often very sure of himself. He had been described as headstrong, and self assured by many of his peers. The Quidditch Team, his friends, his teachers. Almost to the point of arrogance, if Snape was to be believed. However currently, he wasn't sure of himself at all. In fact, he wasn't sure of anything. The young woman in front of him, he could only assume had been in the white bundle, and had come from the red smoke, but that didn't clear it up. He wanted answers. "Who are you? What do you want with me?" he asked.

"You know who I am." they replied, smiling. "I'm the reason you're here. The reason Pettigrew's here. The reason you have that scar on your forehead.". Harry almost gasped.

"Voldemort... " he breathed. ""But how?"

"What you just witnessed is a very old, and very powerful form of the darkest magic. A resurrection ritual."

"But… You're..."

"What? Young? Whole?"

"Yeah. How is this possible?" Harry frowned. Pettigrew whimpered.

"Master…. Please… " he croaked. "You promised".

"Could you excuse me? For just one moment?" Voldemort grinned, then turned and skipped over to Pettigrew. Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. Not only was Voldemort smiling, he had just witnessed her skipping. Then again, it wasn't every day you came back from the dead. A moment later, any notion of laughter was gone, as a green light burst from Voldemort's wand and struck Pettigrew. Voldemort turned back to Harry and flicked her wand. Harry instinctively flinched. A moment later, the ropes binding him were gone. He stretched his arms, and winced as his injured ribs cried out in pain, and the wound in his gut followed suit. "Idiot." Voldemort muttered, approaching Harry. He made to stand up, and went for his wand.

"Hold on-" he began, but was silenced as Voldemort put her hand on his shoulder and forced him back down.

"Shut up, you've been injured." she muttered, placing her wand on his stomach. There was a tingling, warm sensation as he watched the skin grow back over the wound.

"I noticed." snapped Harry. "Your little pet saw to that."

"And I killed him for it." Voldemort replied, as if that settled the matter.

"You killed him, because he hurt me?" Harry asked. Voldemort moved her wand to his ribs, the tingling sensation following.

"Mostly. I asked him to do one simple thing, and he messed it up."

"Oh? And that was?"

"Resurrect me." she said, shrugging.

""Oh? Seems like it was a success to me." Harry smirked. Voldemort finished healing his ribs, then pointed her wand at his forehead, the tip resting on his scar.

"Then why can't I kill you?" she asked.

"Huh?

"Why can't I kill you?" she repeated. "It was easy with Pettigrew. I had so much hate in my heart, I wanted him dead. He. Hurt. You. But, I can't find the hatred to kill you. Why?""

"That's why you're healing me?" Harry chuckled. "Peter fucked up, now we're besties?"

"Besties? I don't understand." she frowned.

"Your pet screwed up your plan for revival. Now you can't kill me? Maybe you inherited his cowardice, you grew from his flesh after all." Harry grinned.

"Yes." Voldemort breathed slowly. "That makes sense."

"It does? I was just trying to goad you." Harry muttered.

"This is dark magic, and magic's all about intent. He didn't want to resurrect me as Voldemort. He just wanted to resurrect me to protect him."

"So, you killed him?"

"He didn't have the conviction to fulfil the ritual. He stuttered, didn't he, when he cut off his hand. When he said he 'willingly' sacrificed his hand, he stuttered, the magic didn't recognise it as a true sacrifice. And then, he used your blood."

"So?" Harry frowned. "Blood's not uncommon in dark magic."

"But I only needed a few drops. I told him to just nick your skin. He stabbed you in the gut." she muttered, more to herself than him. "This body's filled with your blood."

"So what? We're family now?" Harry asked, a sneer on his lips.

"Not exactly, but I feel… different. I feel like me." She smiled. ""The real me. Not Voldemort. I feel like I did before all of this. I feel like Emily Riddle again.". Harry stood up, looking her directly in the eyes.

"So what happens now?" he asked. "Do we duel? Do we go our separate ways until the inevitable war? Do we shake hands and agree to never meet again?"

"I don't know." she muttered. "I don't want to kill you… I don't want to let you go telling everyone about me either.". Emily stood for a moment, deep in thought. Staring at the ground at her feet. Suddenly she turned to Harry, beaming. "I know, I'll make you a deal."


	2. A Proposition

A Deal With The Devil CH 2 - A Proposition

Harry stared at Voldemort for what seemed like an eternity. He couldn't quite figure out what she was up to. She appeared to be genuine in not wanting to kill him, but that wasn't doing much to reassure him. She was currently staring back at him expectantly. Given his current situation, he figured he only had one realistic option. "What sort of deal?" he asked. Emily's face lit up with a beaming smile.

"Come with me, and I promise that no harm shall come to you." she said. Harry stared at her in disbelief. Surely she was joking. Then again. She was hardly the sort of person to go around cracking jokes.

"Go with you? Go where?" he asked.

"Where would you like to go?" she asked, a note of genuine curiosity in her voice.

"You'd let me choose?" he asked suspiciously. She chuckled.

"Of course." she nodded, stepping a little closer to him. "I want you to trust me. I'm not going to drag you into Malfoy Manor, surrounded by those idiotic Death Eaters."

"You call all your employee's idiots?" Harry grinned. Emily's smile suddenly slipped from her face.

"I wouldn't exactly call them employees." she sneered. "They're pure blood bigots. Inbred idiots.". If he wasn't already confused, he certainly was now.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "I thought that was the whole plan. Wipe out the unworthy and put pure bloods back where they belong.". Emily looked around, before perching herself on the plinth of a large nearby statue. She sat in a contemplative silence for a few moments, staring at the ground between her feet.

"That was never the plan." she muttered, quietly. "I never wanted to take over the world. At least, not like this.". Harry wasn't sure if she was talking to him or herself, but decided that since he wasn't dead yet, and he was unlikely to get another chance like this, then he may as well press the advantage.

"What happened?" he asked in a soft voice. Emily took a deep breath, and drew her legs up, crossing them underneath her. Harry leant back against the gravestone. Clearly, this was going to be a long story.

"Did Dumbledore ever tell you of my youth?" she asked. Harry thought for a moment. Dumbledore had dropped tidbits of information, but there was never anything substantial. Never anything personal. It was all information that Dumbledore was privy to in his position, or could be found through the ministry records.

"Not a huge amount" he admitted. Emily sighed.

"I thought that might be the case." she nodded. "Well, allow me to fill you in. As we've established, my name is Emily Riddle. I was born on the 31st of December 1926."

"Looking good for your late 60's." smirked Harry. Emily let out a soft giggle.

"I suppose I have you to thank for that. It seems I look exactly as I did when I was 19. That's when it all started to go wrong. After I was turned away from the DADA position at Hogwarts, and later at the Ministry and St. Mungo's, I became disillusioned with our society. I saw everyone around me getting on with their careers, their lives, their families, and I had none of that. I decided to travel, to see the world, and learn what I could along the way."

"Dumbledore mentioned you tacking down some of the darkest and most vile forms of magic" said Harry.

"Dumbledore is a fool" Emily scoffed. "I learnt everything my mind could absorb. Knowledge is power, Harry. This much has always been obvious to those of us who have desired it. And if I was going to get what I wanted, then I needed all the knowledge I could get."

"And just what was it you wanted exactly?" Harry asked

"I wanted to change the world. I was going to overhaul our stagnant education system, our corrupt ministry and I was going to drag them into the future kicking and screaming if I had to."

"So, how did this escalate into the First War?"

"You've heard of Pearl Harbour, correct?" she asked. Harry nodded. He recalled studying it at school, before beginning Hogwarts. It was probably on Hogwarts curriculum as well, if Binn's ever made it past the Goblin Rebellions. "I was 15, still in school at the time. By the time I was putting together my movement, rumours were starting to filter their way into our society. Rumours that the muggles had a weapon that could kill us all with just a snap of their fingers." she said, sadly.

"It took four years for this news to start spreading." asked Harry, incredulously. Emily just shrugged.

"That's a blazing speed by our standards, especially for the time. Remember Harry, a lot of witches and wizards had no interest in the wars. As far as they were concerned, it was the muggles problem, and there was no way that they were putting their life on the line for the likes of them. Let's face it, wizards versus muggles. They'd destroy us."

"You really think that?" asked Harry. Emily nodded.

"I do. Wholeheartedly."

"Even with our shield charms, increased lifespan, and variety of spells?"

"A shield wouldn't stop a bomb." said Emily softly. "Or block a bullet."

"You think?"

"I know. It's common sense. The average bullet travels at 1700 miles per hour. Are your reflexes quick enough to cast a shield charm before the bullet leaves the barrel, and can successfully block a projectile moving that quickly?". Harry mumbled a quiet no, and let her continue. "Anyway, since the news had started to filter, more and more wizards were becoming concerned with the power that muggles were gaining."

"And so you retaliated with force?"

"It seemed right at the time." Emily sighed. "Remember Harry, I was young, angry, idealistic… Foolish."

"So you allowed your followers to begin the pure blood regime?" asked Harry.

"Yes, I suppose so." nodded Emily. "Don't get me wrong, I dislike muggles, but I have no particular prejudice against muggleborns or half bloods."

"So, why let them go along with it?" asked Harry. "You were in charge, why not stop them from all the killing, torture and chaos?". Emily was silent for a long moment. She sat, staring into the distance, seemingly ignoring him. Eventually, she broke the silence.

"Do you know what a Horcrux is, Harry?" she asked. Harry frowned to himself. It certainly wasn't something he'd come across before. Emily chuckled to herself. "Of course you haven't. Truth be told, I'd be rather worried if you had. A Horcrux is a dark magical item that houses a fragment of an individual's soul."

"That's how you survived?" asked Harry. Emily nodded.

"Yes, by splitting my soul, and so it seems, my sanity.". Emily suddenly jumped up from her position on the plinth, and crouched before him again. "Look Harry, I'm not going to stand here and tell you I regret everything I've ever done, nor will I tell you that I'm proud of it. I didn't spill my darkest secrets to you to get you to feel sorry for me, but I do need you to trust me.". Harry chuckled.

"Trust you? After all the times you've tried to kill me?"

"One time." said Emily, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Oh? What about that time when you were trying to steal The Philosopher's Stone?"

"I was a wraith, that doesn't count. It wasn't technically me."

"And again in the Chamber Of Secrets?"

"That… I actually know nothing about."

"Your evil, cursed diary, posessing Ginny Weasley?" asked Harry, as if trying to jog her memory. Emily, meanwhile, was deep in thought, muttering to herself.

"Diary?... Lucius... That idiot...". Suddenly, she stopped, locking eyes with Harry. "Nevermind all of that, it's in the past. I need you to trust me. I may not be a good person, but I have never lied to you, Harry. Unlike someone else I can name."

"What do you mean?"

"There isn't time right now, you've been gone for quite some time. You have to decide if you'll come with me, or go back to Hogwarts."

"Not until you tell me what you meant. Who's lying to me?"

"I told you there isn't time right now. Choose."

"Tell me!" Harry urged. Emily rolled her eyes. And muttered something that sounded like 'boys!', then summoned the portkey to them.

"New plan, you're going back to Hogwarts, do not mention my return. Play along with the other competitors. If Dumbledore asks, tell them that a group of Death Eaters you don't recognise kidnapped you and tried to kill you, but they didn't bind you properly and you managed to escape.". Harry opened his mouth to interupt, but Emily placed a finger to his lips. "Hush, still talking. Moody will likely try and pull you away, don't let him, he's one of mine in disguise. I'll deal with him. Finally, I'll pick you up from Kings Cross at the end of term, don't be late, okay?". Harry sat there with an expression of utter confusion. He looked as if someone had just force fed him every potion in Snapes cabinet.

"What?"

"Great, glad you got that all, see you at Kings Cross. I'll explain everything then." Emily smiled. She thrust the Tri-Wizard Cup at him, which he instintively grabbed. "The Activation Word is 'Now'.".

"Now?" asked Harry, and with a pop, he vanished.

Once again, Harry landed on a the ground with a thud, thankfuly, his ribs were spared this slowly pushed himself up and found himself in the middle of the entrance to the maze. The silence was deafening as all around, students, staff and parents stared at him.

"Don't all cheer at once." Harry muttered under his breath. Dumbledore stepped forward.

"Harry my boy, are you alright?" he asked. Harry nodded. He felt a hand clasp onto his shoulder and a gruff voice whispered in his ear.

"C'mon lad, you don't want to be here.". Harry recognised Moody's voice and thought back to what Emily had said.

"I'm fine here." he muttered.

"No, you're not. C'mon, Potter."

"I said I'm fine." said Harry, more firmly. Moody suddenly let out a gasp of pain. Harry smirked, and whispered in a low voice. "I believe someone wants a word with you.". The hand clasped on his shoulder slackened, then slipped off as it's owner stalked away. The judges were still deliberating on the final scores, whilst the audience began to chatter amongst themselves, several pointing or staring agape at Harry, but he wasn't paying any attention to them. He was replaying his encounter in the graveyard in his head, over and over. Was someone here, close to him, lying to his face? Did Emily know something he did not. Was she being truthful. Come to think of it, she had never lied about her intentions to him. Not many could say that.

The next day, the unconscious body of Alastor Moody had been found in his office, along with several vials of Polyjuice Potion. It had been assumed that an imposter had taken his place for the year, and that they had been the one to enter Harry into the tournament, though no-one could figure out who or why. Harry had joking suggested it had been his Uncle Vernon or cousin Dudley, out to get rid of him once and for all. Dumbledore had chuckled at this and suggested that perhaps he was too harsh on his relatives. Harry seethed silently at this. Dumbledore knew nothing of what the Dursleys were like. Then again, no-one but Harry did. He had never told anyone of how they had really treated him. Nor did he plan to.

Following on from this discovery, the judges had finally come to a decision on the winner of the Triwizard tournament, and had announced Cedric as the winner. Although Harry had been the first to touch the cup, he had returned over the time limit, so Cedric was announced as the winner as the champion with the next highest points to his name. Harry didn't care. He was happy for Cedric, and had happily handed over the Triwizard Cup. The Portkey should've been disabled by now. At least Harry hoped so, or Cedric was in for a nasty surprise.

On the last day of term, Dumbledore had requested Harry come to his office. The two sat across from one another, with Dumbledore offering one of his famous Lemon Drops. Harry politely declined as always, and looked at the old man. Dumbledore sat in deep thought for a moment, as if trying to find the proper words to say. "Harry." he began. "Is there anything that you wish to tell me? Anything that has you concerned? Anything that has happened to you, that you feel you cannot share with your peers?". Harry thought for a moment. Here was his chance! He could tell Dumbledore that Voldemort had returned! That she would soon be back to her full strength! That she would soon be back to her old ways. He looked up, staring Dumbledore in his twinkling, blue eyes, and smiled.

"No sir, nothing at all."


	3. Who Doesn't Like Pizza?

A Deal With The Devil CH3

The end of term rolled around and Harry found himself sat on the Hogwarts Express with Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny. The train ride passed comfortably, as the group sat relaxing, and Harry felt for the first time in a a long time, that life might just be getting better. No more tasks, or whisperings about him. No more glares from the other students, at least, from most of them. As he looked around the carriage, Ron amd Neville were laughing at some shared joke. Ginny was flicking through a Quality Quidditch Supplies catalogue, and Hermione was opening a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. She passed the box round, then picked up a book, perched on the seat next to her entitled 'A Practical Guide To Mind Magics.' Harry leant back and allowed himself to drift off, for the first time since the Tournament began, feeling perfectly content.

Harry was awoken several hours later by Hermione, gently shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes, and looked up blearily. "Whatzzit?" he mumbled.

"Harry, we're in London. We're at Platform 9 ¾." She said. Harry looked out of the window. She was right, students were greeting their families on the platform, carrying pets in large cases, or dragging trunks of the train, most with great difficulty. Harry yawned and pilled himself to his feet. He grabbed his trunk, and Hedwig's empty cage, having let her flown ahead to stretch her wings, and slowly made his way off the train. He could almost feel his good mood evaporating at the thought of spending another summer with the Dursley's. He hugged his friends goodbye, and made his way to the barrier that seperated the two worlds. After being given the all clear by the conductor, he stepped through into the muggle world, and made his way to the entrance to the station. Being the Summer Holiday's, the station was heaving with people. He looked around, searching for the rotund figure of his Uncle Vernon, here to pick him up and bring him down. Strangely, the man was nowhere to be seen. As he looked around he saw families with suitcases running to trains, a group of young people in football shirts laughing loudly as they marched in formation out of the station, gaggles of women chatting happily to one another as they passed. Yet, there was no sign of his Uncle Vernon

It was then that he spotted a woman staring at him. She was wearing a royal blue sundress. Round, oversized sunglasses hid her eyes, and her pitch black hair framed her face. She stepped towards him, removing the sunglasses as she did so. Harry almost had to hold his jaw, to keep it from hitting the floor.

"Emily?" he whispered. "What the bloody hell are you doing here? What if someone see's you?".

"Yes, I'm sure everyone's looking at me, and thinking 'I wonder if that woman in the dress and flip flops get up is the dark lady who tried to take over the world?'." Emily scoffed.

"I mean what if they recognise you?"

"Who? The muggles who've never heard of me? Or maybe your schoolfriends who've never seen me?" she smirked. "Look around, no-one's paying any attention to me.". Harry cast a quick glance around. She was right. No-one was giving either of them a second glance. "Weak Notice Me Not charm on my purse." she said. "Muggles won't notice me at all. Not sure any of your classmates will either to be honest. Doubt any of them are strong enough to pick up on the charm."

"How was I able to see you?" asked Harry.

"I wanted you to." shrugged Emily. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" asked Harry, as Emily came to a stop by a tourist map outside the station.

"Lunch." replied Emily, examining the map. "You know anywhere?"

"Sorry? Lunch?"

"Yes, it's the meal people typically eat around this time of day."

"I know that, but… Why are we going to lunch?"

"I'm hungry? And so are you? Do you like Pizza? There's a nice place on Pentonville road, just a short walk from here.". Harry's mind was reeling. First, Emily had come to pick him up from the station, in muggle clothes, and now they were discussing lunch.

"Yeah, of course I like pizza."he started "But what about-". Whatever he was about to say was cut off as Emily snatched the trunk and cage from his grasp. The two began to shrink, and were suddenly sucked into her bag.

"It's settled then, come on. My treat."

As Emily lead him down the busy street, Harry couldn't help but look her over, analysing every detail. Her dress was sleeveless, so she had no way to conceal her wand up her sleeve. He doubted it was strapped to her thigh, he knew Emily would never carry it in such an undignified manner. Unless it was invisible, he could only guess it was tucked away in her handbag. 'Hardly easy to get to' He thought to himself.

"I agree." said Emily, smirking at him. "But don't you worry, I have no intention of using it.". Harry stared at her, shocked.

"You heard that?"

"You practically shouted it at me." Emily giggled. "And thank you, it is a nice dress.".

"But how-?"

"It's called Legilimancy." she explained, "It means I can read minds. Don't they teach you anthing at that school?". She smirked at him, as they came to a stop outstide the restaurant. The two stepped in, and were seated by a smiling waiter, who was looking over Emily hungrily. Emily didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't seem to care. Harry almost felt sorry for the man, he had no idea what she was capable of, and at this rate, would likely end up doing to him. They ordered their meals, and the waiter left, shooting Emily one last quick grin. Emily ignored him, focusing on Harry. "Go ahead, ask what you've been dying to ask for the past half hour." she said.

"Emily, why are you here?" Harry asked. "Where's Uncle Vernon."

"Surely, you didn't want to stay with those muggles?"

"What did you do to them?"

"Relax, I didn't do anything." she said, taking a sip of her drink. "Not physically at least.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, panicking now. Mental imagery of the Dursley, sat on their sofa with drool, dripping from the corners of their mouths as Emily shattered their minds with every curse she knew began to race through his mind.

"I offered to take you off their hands. That's all."

"What do you mean?"

"I turned up at their house. Introduced myself as Amy Hartley, a teacher from Hogwarts, and advised that alternative arrangments could be made for your future accomodations if that was more convienient for them. They leapt at the oppurtunity, and now they've signed all the relevant paperwork, they're nothing to you. In fact, I am now your legal guardian."

"So, you're my new Mum?" chuckled Harry.

"Legally speaking." she shrugged. The waiter returned with their orders, and placed them on the table. Harry noticed, he placed his order with a lot less care and grace than he did Emily's. The waiter lingered for a moment, before scurrying away after a dark look from Emily. She chuckled to herself, as she picked up a slice of pizza. Harry sat in silence for a moment.

"So, what happens now, where do I go?"

"Home." she replied simply. "With me.". Harry took a bite of his pizza, and chewed slowly, his mind racing. On the one hand, he never had to set foot in Privet Drive again, on the other, it meant he would be living with the most fearsome dark lady since Morgana La Fey.

Emily rolled her eyes, and picked up her napkin. Leaning over, she wiped the corner of Harry's mouth. "How do you miss a mouth that size?" she chuckled. A warm glow filled Harry heart. Growing up, he hadn't been fed enough to waste getting any on his face, not that Aunt Petunia would have wiped it off anyway. Mrs. Weasley was busy fussing over a small army to notice if he got any on his face, and he highly doubted Professor McGonnagal would come hurrying over from the staff table with a napkin for him.

"I'd live with you?" he asked.

"That's entirely up to you." said Emily. "You could go and rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron, or stay with the Wesley's, or the Grangers. Or, you could come and live with me.". Harry stood in silence, weighing it up. Emily stared ardently at him. Finally, Harry nodded.

"I'll come."he nodded. Emily's face lit up as she beamed at him. The two had finished their meals. Emily fished out her purse, and handed a few notes to a passing waitress, who hurried over to the til.

"Excellent, follow me." she said.

Emily led him out of the restaurant, down the street, finally pulling him into an alley. "Hold onto my hand." she said. Suddenly, there was an unplesent squeezing sensation all over Harry's body, as if he was being pulled through a tube that was far too tight for him. The world passed him by in a dizzying rush, when just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. He shook his head, blinking rapidly. "Sorry." said Emily. "First time apparating?"

"Yeah." he nodded.

"I forgot how unpleasent it is for first timers. Don't worry, you get used to it, the dizziness should pass in a moment as well.". Harry took a few deep breaths, then slowly looked around.

"Where are we?" he asked. It was clearly a residental area. Cars were parked up by the kerb, in front of tall buildings, laced with iron railings.

"Home." said Emily simply, making her way towards the door. Harry jogged after her to keep up. "I bought this flat shortly after leaving Hogwarts, and since no-one else know's about it, I've been able to keep it, despite everything that's happened. I've spent the past few weeks making it fit for human habitation again." she continued as they approached the entrance to the building. "Admittedly the parking's not great, but there's a nice park, and shops nearby."

"Wait, you drive?" asked Harry. Emily rolled her eyes.

"Of course I do, most powerful witch in the world, remember. I can do anything I put my mind to."

"You drive, and we get here by being sucked through a tiny tube." smirked Harry. Emily just shrugged.

"It's London. Driving here is hell.". As they entered the building, Emily cast a quick smile at the doorman.

"Good Afternoon, Miss Riddle." he greeted.

"Good Afternoon, Tom." she smiled. They approached the elevator, and Emily pressed the button. As they rode the elevator in comfortable silence, Harry began to imagine what Emily's flat could look like. As it happens, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw

.

Emily's flat was a far cry from what Harry had imagined. The door opened into a corridor, with several adjoining rooms. Straight ahead, Harry could see a narrow kitchen, complete with muggle appliances. "Come, I'll give you a quick tour." Emily smiled, leading him down the corridor. The living room had a large corner sofa, covered in fluffy cushions. Several magazines littered the large, oak coffee table. A large TV was perched on the wall, overlooking the whole room. The bathroom, was largely similar to the Dursleys, although not quite as pristine. Emily's room was by far the largest, complete with a four poster bed which Harry was fairly convinced, she had stolen from the Slytherin Dungeons. Finally, the two came to a stop before the final door. "Not what you were expecting?" she asked, smirking at him. If he was honest, he wasn't sure what he was expecting. Maybe a few chains on the wall, blood splatters, a skull here and there. Finally, he found his voice.

"Not exactly." he nodded. Emily chuckled.

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't hate muggles, I actually prefer a lot of their ways.". She gestured around the flat as if to emphasise her point. "I find much of it to be far more convienient than our own way of life.". Harry nodded.

"I can see that.". Emily pushed open the door. "This will be your room." she said, holding the door as he stepped forward. "It's got most of what you need, but we'll head out tomorrow to replace your wardrobe. Can't have you running around in those rags forever.". The room itself wasn't large, but certainly a comfortable size. The bed wasn't as ornate as Emily's, but a far cry from the camp bed he'd slept on at the Dursleys. Emily stepped forward, pulling his shrunken trunk and owl cage from her bag, and placing it againt the wall. With a wave of her wand, they both returned to their normal size.

"What about Hedwig?" asked Harry. "How will she find me?"

"Your owl should be able to find her way here." said Emily. "They're pretty clever creatures." she finished. Harry nodded, and perched himself on the edge of the bed. "You've had a long day." said Emily. "You should rest.". She made to leave the room when Harry's voice stopped her.

"Emily?" he began. Emily stopped, and looked round at him.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"I don't expect you to trust me completely yet, Harry." she smiled. "But I'm hoping that you've begun to."


	4. Domestic Bliss

A Deal With The Devil CH 4 - Domestic Bliss

Harry had been living with Emily for nearly a week. At first he was suspicious. He was half expecting her to bring home muggles to torture on a nightly basis, though she informed him that if she wanted to see muggles being tortured, she would watch reality television… If that wouldn't be torturing herself in the process. For the most part, he was surprised at how mundane her routine was. She work early in the morning, had a cup of coffee and read the Daily Prophet. For the first few days, they spent the morning, and early afternoon in Diagon Alley, or in muggle London. Emily had insisted on Harry replacing his wardrobe, and they had spent days going to clothing shops, both magical and muggle, so that Harry could replace every item of clothing he owned. "Your outfits are important, Harry." Emily explained. "The way you present yourself, will impact how you are treated. If you look scruffy, people will disregard you. If you look smart, people will treat you with respect."

"And what does your outfit say about you?" he asked, smirking. Emily waved a hand over herself.

"What do you think?" she asked. "Take a look."Harry looked her over. White sandals, deep blue dress, the same large round shades she had worn when she met him at Kings Cross and a large sunhat.

"I'd say your wearing the darker shade of blue as it's reminiscent of a colour favoured by middle ages royalty, the sunglasses and hat for a touch of mystery and the sandals for comfort to offset the overpowering look. How'd I do?"

"No Harry." Emily smirked. "It means it's August and I'm roasting."

Once Emily was satisfied with his overhauled wardrobe, she had suggested it would be a good idea for Harry to have an idea of his assets, as well as any latent magical abilities. The only way to do that was at Gringotts. Upon arriving at Gringotts, Emily approached the teller and smiled widely. "Good Morning, I'm here to request an account summary and a blood test for my son."

"What's his name?" sighed the Goblin, not looking up.

"Harry Potter.". The Goblin looked up sharply. He narrowed his beady eyes at Emily, then cast a quick glance at Harry.

"And your name, madam?" he smiled, showing a wide set of pointed teeth.

"Emily Riddle.". Harry's heart lurched in his chest. Did the goblins know who she was? Was the full force of the Ministry's Auror's about to bust through the door? The teller was currently conversing quietly with his manager. Emily looked over at him. "Don't panic." she whispered. "Goblins are neutral, remember?"

"So, what's wrong?" Harry whispered back. Emily rolled her eyes.

"I've just strolled into their bank, and declared that your my son, what do you think?"

"They think we're imposters?"

"Or just crazy.". The goblin teller looked back to Harry and Emily.

"My apologies for the delay, if you could please follow me to meeting room four, we can begin looking over Mr. Potters accounts.". The goblin hopped off his stool and led the two to a large oak door. He pushed it open and gestured for the to enter, with a wave of his gnarled hand. Emily stepped forward first, followed shortly after by Harry. Harry felt a strange sensation washing over him as he entered, like a wave of warm water covering his entire body, then vanishing just as soon as it had hit him. "Well, it seems you are who you claim to be." the goblin smiled, following through. "Please, take a seat." he said, gesturing to the two armchairs, positioned before a small desk. Harry and Emily each took a seat as the goblin rummaged around in a filing cabinet behind the desk. "I'm almost disappointed Watching the disenchantment barrier cleansing someone does liven up the office." he cackled.

"I'm sure it does." said Emily, with an obviously fake smile on her smirked at her attempt at small talk.

"I am curious at how you came into the position of Mr Potter's guardian, Miss Riddle. I was rather under the impression that you were dead."

"An exaggeration. I am quite alive. As to the how, well, that's between Harry and I."

"Very well." nodded the goblin, turning to them, scroll in hand. "I have here the accounts."

The account summary had been as she expected. Harry was a very wealthy young wizard. He was nowhere near as rich as the Malfoys, or the Lestrange's, but it was still a sizeable amount. According to the goblin who had assisted them, James Potter poured a substantial amount of the Potter wealth into the First Wizarding War in his support of the Order Of The Phoenix. The goblin went on to explain that the cottage at Godric's Hollow had been converted into a memorial of sorts, and recommended against rebuilding it. Further to that the only other property was Potter Manor, which had been built by his great-great-great grandfather, but was badly damaged by the Fiendfyre which claimed his grandparents at the end of the first war.

"What about any latent magical powers?" asked Emily. The goblin smiled a toothy grin, putting Harry on edge.

"Very well, Mr Potter, your hand please." said the goblin, reaching into the top drawer of the desk. Harry looked to Emily, who nodded encouragingly. Harry held out his hand. The goblin snatched it and quickly drew a dagger he'd pulled from the drawer, across Harry's palm. "Hold it over your account summary." the goblin instructed. Harry did as he was told. A steady stream of blood fell onto the page, and began swirling, forming a new paragraph below the account summary. The goblin released his grip in Harry's hand, and began to look over the new text. Emily reached over and took ahold of Harry's hand, much gentler than the goblin had done.

"Nothing unexpected here, Miss. Riddle." the goblin stated, as he read from the parchment. "Stable magical core for a boy of his age. Parseltongue, due to his connection to yourself. But nothing beyond that."

"Nothing at all."

"Nothing unusual. There's a slight affinity for Transfiguration, but that's not too unusual. Children usually have an instinctive pull towards subjects that their ancestors were proficient in." said the goblin, before looking at Harry. "Would you say that you are talented at Transfiguration, Mr. Potter?"

"I'm not sure about talented, but I've always gotten good grades in it, even if I'm not entirely sure on the subject matter."

"Understandable, your father was rather proficient in Transfiguration, as your mother was in Charms. Any pull towards Charms, Mr. Potter?"

"Not especially."

"Perhaps your core is more like your fathers then." said the goblin. "Is there anything further that you require, Miss Riddle?"

"No, that will be everything, thank you."

After leaving Gringotts, Emily had apparated the two of them back to muggle London and when they reached their flat, had promptly sat Harry down, grabbed a first aid kit from the bathroom, and began tending to his wound. "Could it not be healed with magic?" asked Harry, grimacing as Emily dabbed it with a disinfectant.

"Sadly not, they use a goblin steel blade, much like Gryffindor's Sword, that's heavily laced with enchantments, which allow the blood test to be carried out. I'm sorry, dear, I should have warned you."

"Isn't there an easier way?" asked Harry, wincing again as Emily bandaged his hand.

"Probably, but it's the most effective way. Though, I'm pretty certain that the goblins enjoy it, or at least do it on purpose."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone who takes that test expects to be a descendant of the founders or Merlin, or Morganna and such." said Emily. "I think that the goblins enjoy adding a little pain to the humiliation of wizards who go in expecting to find that they're the descendant of Merlin, only to find out they're ancestor's are farmers from Yorkshire.". Harry chuckled at the thought of Lucius Malfoy screaming at a Goblin to double check the test, as he was told that his ancestors were muggle farmers. Emily finished dressing his wound, and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. "I'm sorry, Harry. I should have warned you."

"It's okay, Em." said Harry, taking her hand. "I'm sure I'll live. What did the goblin mean? When he was talking about my core?" Harry asked. Emily thought for a few moments.

"Have magical cores been explained to you before?"

"Not at all."

"Okay, we'll begin there then, A magical core exists in all humans, and it's what allows us to use magic."

"You said all humans have them? Even muggles? Or is this a set up to berate them again?"

"Nothing so crude, my dear. Muggles do have a magical core, it just isn't strong enough to allow them to tap into, and utilise magic as we do. Some people, like squibs or the odd muggle, might have a slight opening they can exploit, that affords them a tiny fraction of magic. It's normally played off as sleight of hand or the like."

"So everyone's got one, but only we can access all of it?" asked Harry. Emily chuckled to herself.

"Not quite. Everyone's got one, but no-one can access all of their core. Not myself, or Dumbledore, not even Merlin himself. The sheer energy of channelling such pure, unbridled magic throughout your body would be fatal. Our bodies naturally channel a level that we can handle. It can be strengthened to channel more, just as any other muscle can."

"How?"

"If you want to strengthen your arms, you lift heavy objects. To strengthen your magical core, you perform complex spells. The more energy you use, the more your core adapts and becomes accustomed to it." she shrugged, sipping from the cup before her, then glancing back up at Harry. "For the record, that is not an invitation to practice Fiendfyre in our home!". Harry chuckled.

"I don't even know what that is."

"Good."

"What did they mean when they mentioned my parents being good at Charms and Transfiguration?" he asked. Emily thought for a moment.

"Typically, children tend to be better suited to the types of magic that their parents practiced. Imagine a magical core as a pentagon. Each point leads to a different branch of magic. So, one point would be Transfiguration, another might be Charms, Potions, Defence and Arithmancy. Obviously there are more branches of magic, but for simplicity's sake we'll stick to these five." she began. "Now, we know that your father was talented in the field of Transfiguration, so his core would have become accustomed to that branch of magic. Over time his core would have become specialised in that field, the same for your mother in Charms. When you were born, you core would have inherited some of this specialised magic."

"But, I never feel as though I'm that good in either of those subjects."

"It's instinctual. When you cast a spell in transfiguration, your magic is being instinctively helped by the core of your father. There's an argument to be made for nature vs nurture. No need to tell you which side the purebloods support."

"It's hard to argue with the reasoning."

"True, it does seem substantial, but don't forget, without new blood, the cores can only expand so far. Diversity is a good thing, especially when it's the future of our entire world at stake.". Harry glanced around in mock confusion. Emily frowned at him. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry, I was sat talking with Lord Voldemort a moment ago, she was right here. Have you seen her?" he grinned. Emily chuckled, and gave him a light punch on the shoulder.

"Shut up."

The next morning, Harry found Emily sat in her regular spot, a cup of coffee on the table before her, and the Daily Prophet in her hands. Her brow was furrowed as if concentrating intensely on what she was reading. She snarled and slammed the paper down onto the table with vigour. Harry jumped a little at her reaction. She looked up, and saw him standing in the doorway. "I'm sorry, dear. I didn't mean to make you jump."

"No, it's okay." said Harry. "Is something wrong?"

"The Ministry." she shrugged. "Being useless again. Coffee?"

"No surprise there, and yes, please."

"They're appointing someone to your school. Eyes and ears for that moron, Fudge." she sighed, making her way over to the coffee maker. "You'll really have to watch your back this year, Harry. They're either going to try and get you to be their poster boy, or they're going to lump you in with Dumbledore and make out like you're an attention seeking lunatic."

"Not sure which is worse, if I'm honest." Harry grinned, taking the cup from Emily with a nodded thanks. Milk and two sugars, she didn't even need to ask. "Who are they looking to appoint?"

"It hasn't been announced yet, but I've got some guesses. It would have to be a Fudge loyalist. No-one close to Dumbledore and no-one will question orders. That rules out Shacklebolt and Bones. I'd say the Weasley boy, but he's too recent a graduate. I hate to say it, but Umbridge might be his final choice.".

"Who's Umbridge." asked Harry, sipping from his cup.

"Delores Umbridge is his Undersecretary. Slytherin through and through. She's ambitious and will do anything it takes to succeed. She's not smart enough to progress honestly though, she'll double cross everyone and stab even her closest friends in the back if it get's her somewhere. At least… She would if she had any."

"You know her well?"

"No, Lucius met her a few times when he was meeting with Fudge. He told me that she would always try and worm her way into their little meetings, but Lucius would always cut her out. Thinking about it, he's probably the only person she's afraid of."

"She's afraid of Malfoy?" asked Harry.

"Remember Lucius could end her career overnight if he wanted to." Emily pointed out. "Maybe I should have a word with him..." she finished, barely whispering the last part.

"So… What's this Umbridge lady going to be doing?" asked Harry. "Just wandering around, spying on everyone and reporting back to Fudge?"

"I imagine they'll try and sneak her in under the guise of hiring her as the new Defence professor." shrugged Emily.

"Great, my favourite class will be ruined." groaned Harry. "At least it'll only be for one year. That reminds me, is it true that you cursed that position?"

"What?" Emily grinned. "People think I cursed that job?"

"Yeah, they say that you were rejected as a DA professor and in your fury, you cursed the position."

"I cursed the position? As a concept? How would I even do that? You can't curse a concept. You can curse an object, but never a concept. Otherwise, I'd have won the last war by cursing the concept of light magic. Or water and wait for you all to die of thirst."

"So that's a no, then?" asked Harry, grinning at Emily reaction.

"Like I said, not even sure how I'd go about it.". The two sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, Harry sipping his coffee, and starring contentedly out of the window, and Emily staring at the table in deep thought. After a few moments, Harry spoke again.

"You're trying to figure out how to curse the DADA position aren't you?". Emily looked up at him.

"If I were to place a curse on the door handle to the Defence Professors office that was triggered by the touch of the individual Hogwarts recognised as the DADA professor..."


End file.
